


Destiny in Storms

by DwarvenBeardSpores



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Aftermath, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anxiety, Cheese, Comfort, Disassociation, Friendship, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Post-Canon, Processing Trauma, Rain, Storms, but like in an, presumably they've saved the world already and it was a rough time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DwarvenBeardSpores/pseuds/DwarvenBeardSpores
Summary: “Don’t worry, mate,” Sasha says. “I’ve got your back.” And then she is perched on the back of the sofa, one knee pulled into her chest, the other taking the space next to him.
Relationships: Sasha Racket & Zolf Smith
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	Destiny in Storms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HoloXam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoloXam/gifts).



> Turns out I only write rain, snacks, and emotions. I'll take it. Also Holo this is for you because I feel like it is also very much your jam. 
> 
> Let them be softe... and frens...

Lightning flashes against the wall and Zolf closes his eyes. Keeps them closed as the following thunderclap shakes his bones that seem so precariously put together. Opens them and tries again to reconcile the sound of rain safely away on the roof with the phantom drumming on his skin.

He’d gotten himself whiskey, he thinks, and stares at his hands wrapped tight around a cold glass. It’s empty. Huh. 

He thinks about getting another, but the storm picks up again and instead he presses himself further back into the sofa, clutches the glass tighter, closes his eyes.

“Alright, Zolf?”

His eyes snap open and Sasha is there, chunk of cheese in one hand, dagger in the other. How long has she been standing against that wall? It’s the middle of the night. Could’ve been a few seconds or several hours, with her the way she is. With Zolf the way he is. Sasha slices a piece of cheese with her dagger and eats it, casual, as though she’s not watching him at all.

Zolf looks back down at his glass.

“Don’t worry, mate,” she says. “I’ve got your back.” And then she is perched on the back of the sofa, one knee pulled into her chest, the other taking the space next to him. 

The back of the sofa faces the wall, Zolf knows this. Not much to watch. But he’s glad to have her around anyway. It’s not as though he’s in much of a place to protect himself.

“Want cheese?”

Zolf shakes his head.

The sofa feels unsteady under him, rocking like a ship in the storm. Rain slides down the roof but it might as well be dripping through his beard. He closes his eyes. Lightning flashes.

Minutes later-- it must be minutes-- Sasha’s free leg nudges his shoulder like a question. Zolf is inside, in the living room, in the middle of the night. It’s still raining. He leans against her like an answer.

“Right,” Sasha says and he thinks, distantly, that she sounds pleased. “Yeah, alright. I got you, Zolf.” Lightning flashes.

It’s not-- it’s not anything. It’s not  _ destiny.  _ It’s just the rain.

“You think of all we’ve done,” Zolf says, finally, almost like he’s not saying it at all. “Everything we’ve tried to save. And it still storms, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Sasha says. “Be weird if it didn’t though, yeah? I mean, that’d be a  _ lot  _ of sun.”

Thunder rolls.

“Then again, like, if you’re underground you can go a long time without seeing storms. Down in Other London it didn’t rain so much as leak, y’know? It was real weird learning how rain worked.”

Zolf nods, or maybe he doesn’t.

The glass has gone warm in his hands.

“Why’re you up?” he finally asks.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she says simply.

“Right.” He tries, now, tries pulling himself out of the storm and into the room so he can add, “you alright?”

He turns to look at her, and in the darkness the scars on her face, the burned patch of her hair, the set of her jaw all make her look worn down. Tired. There’s rain on his skin again and he shivers it off.

“Could use some more cheese,” Sasha says, and suddenly it’s just her again. Just a friend and a sofa and a few daggers. “Snack, Zolf?”

He’s not sure he can eat. He doesn’t want Sasha to go. “I’ll make you something,” he says. “Little bit nicer than plain cheese.”

“I mean I won’t say no, but the cheese  _ is,  _ just, right there.”

“Nope. Kitchen.”

It takes him a few tries to get off the sofa. He’s all locked up, unsteady. Sasha waits. When he’s upright, she hops off her perch and gives him a light punch on the shoulder. Then she turns her attention back to her snack dagger, like she hadn’t.

“What you make, is it gonna have cheese  _ in _ it?”

“Yeah. C’mon.”

They go into the kitchen.

Outside, thunder rolls. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you thought. 
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr as dwarven-beard-spores, twitter as @beardspores, and dreamwidth as dwarvenbeardspores.


End file.
